Supernatural fans often associate Season 3's popular “Jus in Bello” episode with the world's quintessential zombie movie, George Romero's Night of the Living Dead. Romero's zombie films, beginning with Night, fill the survival space with multiple, diverse survivalists who are forced to work through personal differences stemming from jealousy and petty annoyance to racism and bigotry, issues of morality, theology, and other social and cultural differences. Indeed, the setting is the first link to Romero's Night, whose cramped Pennsylvanian (...) farmhouse is little different than the poorly fortified police station holding Sam and Dean. The demons congregate listlessly around the jail. This is an obvious visual homage to the isolated Pennsylvanian farmhouse in Night. The work of the demons in “Jus in Bello” like the zombies in Night and Dawn, is ceaseless and instinctual. (shrink)

The victim’s upper brain is destroyed. He’s a living corpse, but his organs are alive and warm and happy until they can be taken out by the butchers at the Institute. Karen Ann Quinlan wasn’t dead. But, terrifyingly, she wasn’t fully alive, either. Maybe she was no longer human. A smear like “death panels” emerges and catches fire because it’s fundamentally interesting. You could write a great thriller . . . about death panels. As I write, a single (...) phrase dominates public discussion of health-care reform in the United States: “death panels.” Its power cannot lie in its referential accuracy or be diminished by arguing, even with irrefutable evidence, that it is a misrepresentation. The .. (shrink)

Ravelingien et al have suggested that early human xenotransplantation trials should be carried out on patients who are in a permanent vegetative state (PVS) and who have previously granted their consent to the use of their bodies in such research in the event of their cortical death. Unfortunately, their philosophical defence of this suggestion is unsatisfactory in its current formulation, as it equivocates on the key question of the status of patients who are in a PVS. The solution proposed by (...) them rests on the idea that it should be up to people themselves to determine when they should be treated as dead. Yet the authors clearly believe (and state) that patients who are in a PVS are in fact dead. Finally, given the public good that their proposal is intended to achieve, the moral importance they place on the consent of a person to the use of his or her body in research is ultimately only defensible in so far as this consent represents the wishes of a living person. It is thus only a gentle caricature of their position to suggest that according to their account, consent to participation in xenotransplantation research is a “right of the living dead”. The equivocation by Ravelingien et al on the question of whether these people are living or dead means that they avoid confronting the implications of their argument. The solution proposed by Ravelingien et al to the problem of how we should proceed with xenotransplantation research is therefore not as neat as it first seems to be. (shrink)

The author introduces and critically analyzes two recent, curious findings and their accompanying explanations regarding how the folk intuits the capabilities of the dead and those in a persistent vegetative state. The dead are intuited to survive death, whereas PVS patients are intuited as more dead than the dead. Current explanations of these curious findings rely on how the folk is said to conceive of death and the dead: either as the annihilation of the person, (...) or that person’s continuation as a disembodied being. The author argues that these two conceptions are incompatible and inconsistent with each other and the evidence. Contrariwise, the author argues that the folk intuition about dead-survivors and the living dead are more easily explained by appealing to cross-culturally established concepts: the folk biological concept of death the existential concept of death, and the concept of social death. (shrink)

To become a public figure or celebrity, I claim, is to exist alongside a zombie version of yourself. This zombie shares the same name and physical likeness but operates independently of its flesh-and-blood counterpart. In fact, public figures do not have any special authority over the zombie version of themselves, and in some contexts, they enjoy less authority over their zombie counterparts than others do. In the US, for example, public figures are not legally entitled to protections against criticism via (...) parody, which can include unauthorized use of their likeness for offensive images, insulting jokes, and other forms of public mockery. As Michel Foucault observed, a work is entitled to become the “murderer” of its author, which suggests that the author’s name exists among the living dead. An artist’s works can bear their name yet operate independently of their attitudes or mental states. In June of 2019, the master rights to Taylor Swift’s first six albums were sold without her knowledge or consent, effectively “murdering” her rights as their author. Swift’s 2019 decision to re-record her first six studio albums can thus be understood as an act of institutional revenge, a way to get back at the people who have wielded power over her and the institutions that enable exploitation—a battle with her zombified works: the “stolen” original albums. In this chapter I sketch an institutional theory of celebrity names to explain the institutional, personal, and political significance of self-appropriation, using Taylor Swift’s act of re-recording her own music as a paradigm case. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Diacritics 30.4 (2000) 38-58 [Access article in PDF] Giorgio Agamben and the Politics of the Living Dead Andrew Norris Death is most frightening, since it is a boundary. —Aristotle, Nicomachean EthicsAnd as the same thing there exists in us living and dead and the waking and the sleeping and young and old: for these things having changed round are those, and those having changed round (...) are these. —Heraclitus, Fragment 88 What is politics today? What is its relationship to the tradition from which it emerges? The questions are difficult ones to answer in part because contemporary politics seems so schizophrenic. In affluent Western countries politics is increasingly a matter of spectacle on the one hand and managed economies on the other. Hannah Arendt seems quite confirmed in her claim that the once-glorious public realm of appearance is fundamentally degraded when it is overrun by concerns more appropriate to the private realm, such as household management and gossip. If this "unnatural growth of the natural" [47] inclines us to nostalgia for a time when the two realms were more decisively separated, such nostalgia is likely intensified by the "ethnic cleansing," rape camps, and genocide that we now associate with names such as "Yugoslavia" and "Rwanda." But as improbable as any flight to the past may be, it is even less likely that the politics of that past could help us navigate the treacherous waters of our current technological society. I have in mind not only the familiar claim that the attempted genocides of our time are only made possible by quite modern forms of technology, organization, and experience, 1 but also recent scientific and "medical" advances. Consider just two: first, the corporate driven and controlled development of biotechnologies, in which huge multinationals are acquiring patents to genetic "information" such as "all human blood cells that have come from the umbilical cord of [any] newborn child." If there is any doubt that such developments will lead us to redefine the human being, these may be laid to rest by the case of John Moore, an Alaskan businessman who found his own body parts had been patented, without his knowledge, by the University of California at Los Angeles and licensed to the Sandoz Pharmaceutical Corporation [Rifkin 60-61]. So much for Locke's attempt to ground the institution of private property in the fact that "every Man has a Property in his own Person"! 2 In its place we seem to be moving [End Page 38] toward something more like the "logical synthesis of biology and economy" called for by the National Socialist Institut allemand in Paris in 1942 [Agamben, Homo Sacer 145]. A similar process of redefinition is already underway in the field of death, a phenomenon that scientists and lawyers are having a harder and harder time pinning down. Where once death was defined by the cessation of the movement of the heart and lungs, recent life support technologies have forced scientists to define death in terms of such technologies. Witness Doctor Norman Shumway's defense of the definition of death as brain death: "I'm saying that anyone whose brain is dead is dead. It is the one determinant that would be universally applicable, because the brain is the one organ that can't be transplanted" [163]. By implication, if and when technology is developed that allows for brain transplants, even those whose brains are "dead" will be brought back to some kind of life, perhaps as organ farms for others who are less ambiguously alive.Giorgio Agamben, from whose book Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life I take both this last grisly example and its analysis, argues that, contrary to appearances, such developments do not represent a radical break with the tradition. His analysis both builds upon and corrects Michel Foucault's claim that politics in our time is constituted by disciplines of normalization and subjectification that Foucault labels "bio-power." For Foucault, biopower is fundamentally modern. "What might be called a society's 'threshold of modernity,'" he writes, "has been reached when the life of the species is wagered... (shrink)

This chapter responds to criticismsmade in Volume 8 of this series, in reply to another chapter of that volume. The initial chapter resurrected the Growing Block Theory from its grave, devising a coherent formulation of it and arguing that its burial was premature. It aimed to show that GBT has the wherewithal to explain how we might easily come to know that we are living on the edge of reality posited by GBT. Braddon-Mitchell, in the reply, remained unconvinced. His (...) objections are addressed here. (shrink)

ZusammenfassungSeit seiner Entstehung zeichnet sich das Genre des Zombie-Films durch eine kulturreflexive Komponente aus, die politische Entwicklungen kritisch begleitet. Abseits dieser gesellschaftskritischen Traditionslinie wird in der TV-Serie The Walking Dead eine weitere Ebene der Reflexion eingeführt. Auch wenn hier viele der ästhetischen und narrativen Traditionen des Zombie-Genres aufgegriffen werden, ermöglicht der Seriencharakter einen vertiefenden Blick der Charaktere im Angesicht des apokalyptischen Zerfalls von personalen, familiären und gesellschaftlichen Gewissheiten und Wertestrukturen. Am deutlichsten wird diese Verunsicherung angesichts des Umganges mit dem (...) Tod. Damit reflektiert die Serie auch die zunehmende reale Aushebelung der Gewissheit des Todes durch die Lebenswissenschaften ab den 1960er-Jahren. Die Ausprägungen und Folgen dieses Diskurses werden in The Walking Dead in Form einer Negation biologischer Gewissheiten dramatisch zugespitzt. Somit bietet die Serie nicht nur ein kritisch-reflexives Medium auf die im Umlauf befindlichen Diskurselemente, sondern sie fügt auch neue Perspektiven auf den Tod in der Gesellschaft hinzu. (shrink)

The paper attempts to provide a philosophical justification for the belief in the living-dead among the traditional Africans using the Yoruba as an example. It argues that in spite of the various criticisms leveled against the belief in the living-dead among the traditional Africans, this belief can be rationally defended and philosophically understood within the conceptual scheme of the traditional Yoruba thought. The paper argues that the link between the living and the livingdead possesses social (...) as well as moral functions. It encourages people to live morally so as to merit a good place in the other world. It imbues them with the spirit of hard work, industry, and integrity in the community. It symbolizes the continuity not only of the social structure but of the human community as well. Finally, the paper points to the need of reappraising this traditional belief in the living-dead in the quest of relieving contemporary African societies from their plethora of social predicaments. (shrink)

Death has a social meaning in every culture. It is not something that concerns only the person who dies, but also his or her family, friends and other people in the community. Most people have an idea of what counts as a good death—for the person concerned or for those who survive. Some people would prefer to die suddenly and painlessly, in their sleep if possible. But for many people, a good death is a process in which they gradually lose (...) their hold on life, become reconciled to their end and say goodbye to their loved ones. From the point of view of relatives and friends, a good death is likely to be one in which they have a chance to show their feelings for the dying person and to become reconciled to their loss as the patient’s life fades away. At the end of this process, there is a dead body that can be put to rest in an appropriate ceremony, and then those still surviving are free to begin learning to live without the dead person.Problems, ethical and social, arise when the social understanding of death and how the living should relate to the dead and dying clash with medical definitions of death, …. (shrink)

Why should we respect the wishes which individuals may have about how their body is treated after death? Reflecting on how and why the law respects the bodies of the living, we argue that we must also respect the ‘dead’. We contest the relevance of the argument ‘the dead have no interests’, rather we think that the pertinent argument is ‘the living have interests in what happens to their dead bodies’. And, we advance arguments why (...) we should also respect the wishes of the relatives of the deceased regarding what happens to the bodies of their loved ones. In our analysis, we use objections to organ and tissue donation for conscientious reasons (often presented as religious reasons) to show why the living can have interests in their dead bodies, and those of their dead relatives, and why these interests should be respected. (shrink)

Stratton's photographs show that, unlike the rigid class system that governed medieval Naples, there is a virtually classless society within the catacombs, where noblemen and peasants were laid to rest side by side, their remains indistinguishable from one another. Skulls were placed in seemingly endless rows, stretching far back into the depths of the cavern, each skull identical to those surrounding it.

This book offers a radical alternative to the positive orientation of popular psychology. This positive orientation has been criticized numerous times. However, there has yet to be a coherent alternative proposed. We all know today that life hurts and that there is no ultimate remedy to this pain. The positive approach feels to us as dishonest and irrelevant. We require a new, more negative, perspective and practice, one that is honest and does not pretend to offer an escape from the (...) agonies of the world. This book offers in three main chapters a ‘depressive realist’ perspective that explores the structural role of negativity and tragedy in relation to the individual psyche, society, and nature. It explores the possibility of ‘negative psychoanalysis’ which takes into account the tragedy of human existence instead of adopting escapist positions. (shrink)

Upon its release in 1968, George Romero's Night of the Living Dead was attacked by many critics as an exploitative low budget film of questionable moral value. I argue in this paper that Night of the Living Dead is indeed nihilistic, but in a deeper philosophical sense than the critics had in mind.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Living from the Dead: Disaffirming Biopolitics by Stuart J. MurrayMichelle BallifThe Living from the Dead: Disaffirming Biopolitics, by Stuart J. Murray. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, The RSA Series in Transdisciplinary Rhetorics, 2022. 207 pp. ISBN 9780271093413 (hardback) $109.95 ISBN 9780271093406 (paper) $27.50If we but listen, we can hear a voice from the grave—Jacques Derrida's mournful lamentation: "There is no longer, there (...) has never been a scholar capable of speaking of anything and everything while addressing himself to everyone and anyone, and especially to ghosts. There has never been a scholar who really, and as scholar, deals with ghosts" (2006, 12), a scholar who "does not believe in the sharp distinction between … the living and the non-living" (12). But, then, as if in response, we witness the apparition of just such a scholar: Stuart J. Murray, the author of The Living from the Dead, who very much is dedicated to the ethical project of attending to those dead who continue to haunt the living. Indeed, the book's cover features a spectral image, entitled "Ghost," as it were, conjured by artist Si Lewen. As well, the very title of his work renders the "sharp distinction" between "The Living" and "The Dead" porous, quixotically indistinct, as signified by the unattached and unhinged preposition "from." That is, the title does not announce that Murray intends to distinguish the living from the dead, nor separate the living from the dead, nor identify the living from the dead—in some categorical, decisive demarcation. Rather, Murray's use of the preposition "from" might conjure—instead, a Derridean sense of a "borderline"—a relation marked by différance between the living and the dead. Etymologically derived from an Old English preposition, "denoting the distance, absence, or remoteness of a person or thing in fixed position" [End Page 347] (OED)—in time or space, from evokes Derrida's neologism. "Différance as temporization [time/deferral], différance as spacing [space/difference]. How are they [time/space]," Derrida queries, "to be joined?" (1991, 61). Murray's syntactically incomplete phrase suggests that the living and the dead are conjoined in a relation of interminable deferral and indeterminable difference, entangled in a fluxed, symbiotic—parasitic, even—relation.Much more could be said on this t(r)opic of deferred presence (and much more, indeed, of parasitic consumption and carnophallogocentrism), but to our immediate point, as Murray's work entreats us to consider, there is much to learn in conversation with the dead; and indeed, it is our ethical responsibility—burden, even, as he remarks—to "hearken" to their voices. Murray's The Living from the Dead undertakes this burden, listening to "the dead, the dying, the dispossessed" (1), endeavoring to articulate "[u]nder what conditions might we hearken those dead who summon us, and exhort us, perhaps to reckon with our unspeakable complicity in their deaths" (1), while offering the following caveat: "These pages, which arise in care of such summons, exhortations, and calls to reckoning neither speak for nor as the dead, the dying, or lives lost" (1), for as he will reveal in his refrain, speaking for or as amounts to an unethical co-option, a resentencing to death of the dead and dying.Murray describes his work's writing "something akin to thanatography" (1), which is through and through a rhetorical enterprise, necessitating an attunement to and with biopolitics' "speech/acts and its tropological constitution of subjects, political identities, and lives lived" (10). That is, as Steven Mailloux has argued elsewhere, tropes are rotated in order to "rotate the troops" (1993, 299). Tropes, troops; life, death. Much is at stake.The subtitle of the book, Disaffirming Biopolitics, foregrounds Murray's argument: that attending to these voices, to the dead, requires a certain disaffirmation of biopolitics, a disaffirmation of "a politics ostensibly devoted to life (bios)" (1), to the production of "life," which is "governed by increasingly autonomous efficiencies and economies of scale, through techno-administrative mechanisms that include systems of surveillance, segregation, health and welfare regimes" (2), as well as "through education, … law, biomedicine, and popular culture, too" (2). The production of "life" instantiates itself... (shrink)

The dead will remain with us, Sartre remarks at the end of Les Mots, for as long as humanity roams the earth. The dead are never quite dead; they survive in what Sartre, in L'Etre et le néant, calls 'la vie morte' (dead life). In Huis clos, Sartre envisages an afterlife in which, although they can no longer act, the dead continue to agonize over the meaning of their lives and their now irrevocable actions. Sartre's (...) script of Les Jeux sont faits, filmed by Jean Delannoy and shown at the Cannes Film Festival in 1947, goes a step further. It depicts two dead people given the chance to return to earth in the pursuit of love and, at the same time, the opportunity to rectify their earlier mistakes, to change the meaning of their lives by intervening more effectively in their worlds. Despite its supernatural story line, the stakes of Les Jeux sont faits are recognizably Sartrean. The film serves as an opportunity to probe the themes of freedom, responsibility, choice, the role of the individual agent in history, the self's opacity to itself, the conflict endemic in the human condition and the ways in which external circumstances make a mockery of our endeavours. It asks the question, if we were given a second chance, could we revisit the scenes of our failures and transform them into successes? Could we learn from our mistakes and lucidly remodel the world in the form of our desires? Or are we condemned only to fail again, to make the same mistakes twice over? (shrink)

Since the early 2000s, zombies have increasingly swarmed the landscape of popular culture, with ever more diverse representations of the undead being imagined. A growing number of zombie narratives have introduced sexual themes, endowing the living dead with their own sexual identity. The unpleasant idea of the sexual zombie is itself provocative, triggering questions about the nature of desire, sex, sexuality, and the politics of our sexual behaviors. However, the notion of zombie sex has been largely unaddressed in (...) scholarship. -/- This collection addresses that unexamined aspect of zombiedom, with essays engaging a variety of media texts, including graphic novels, films, television, pornography, literature, and internet meme culture. The essayists are scholars from a variety of disciplines, including history, theology, film studies, and gender and queer studies. Covering The Walking Dead, Warm Bodies, and Bruce LaBruce’s zombie-porn movies, this work investigates the cultural, political and philosophical issues raised by undead sex and zombie sexuality. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 122.3 (2001) 433-436 [Access article in PDF] Sarah Iles Johnston. Restless Dead: Encounters between the Living and the Dead in Ancient Greece. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1999. xxi + 329 pp. Cloth, $40.00. This book, which focuses on ancient Greek beliefs about how the dead interact with the living, is an important addition to the study (...) of Greek religion. The subject has become unusually popular in recent years, and when Johnston wrote in her preface that "scholars of our generation... have paid the topic little attention" (xi), she had no way of knowing that two other books on the topic were being published nearly simultaneously with her own. Fortunately, there is so much to say about ancient beliefs concerning ghosts that the three studies do not overlap much. Antonio Stramaglia's Res inauditae, incredulae: Storie di fantasmi nel mondo greco-latino (Bari 1999) and D. Felton's Haunted Greece and Rome: Ghost Stories from Classical Antiquity (Austin 1999) take broad views, examining both Greek and Roman ghost stories from literary and folkloric points of view, respectively. Johnston's book focuses only on the Greek dead, and does so in more detail and with more attention to the religious aspects of the living-dead interaction than either of the other books. She uses models developed by cultural anthropology to examine how Greek ideas about the dead changed over time in response to changing social conditions, including contacts with other cultures and the development of the polis.Johnston divides her study into three major parts. Part 1, "A Short History of the Dead in Ancient Greece," covers several aspects of the Greek view of the dead in the archaic and classical periods. First we have a brief chronological overview of the dead in Greek society from the Homeric poems to the fifth century B.C. The information is unfortunately rather scattered and uneven, and Johnston gives much of it simply as introductory material for later parts of her book: "This is a topic that I take up in depth in another chapter" (10); "As we shall see in chapter 6" (18); "This... is analyzed in depth in chapter 3" (19). This brief survey might best have been included in an introduction (there is only a short prologue), since it does not stand well on its own here and does not accomplish much overall other than to provide us with several very general conclusions: that the Greeks, like many other peoples, believed that the unburied or prematurely dead were angry with the living and could harm them; that the dead could be called up by the living to serve them; that other than this, the dead are not particularly active, at least in early Greek belief.Part 1 also includes information concerning rituals to the dead and the role of the goe\s. For this discussion Johnston takes a topical rather than chronological approach to the problem of what the Greeks believed about the dead versus what they did about the dead; "participants need not have believed in a ritual to go through its motions" (37). Johnston briefly describes the nature of rituals for and against the dead, distinguishing funerals and festivals that expressed affection from defensive rituals and festivals held out of fear, to avert the wrath of the dead. One particularly interesting section deals with the relatively recent finds of [End Page 433] the Selinuntine lex sacra, the Cyrenean inscriptions, and the rituals for the dead described thereon: both contain detailed descriptions of real aversion rituals involving the appeasement of ancestral spirits. Johnston is careful to remind the reader of the fragmentary nature of this particular evidence and at times sounds overly defensive or cautious: "although the evidence is too scant for us to be certain" (58); "its brevity makes it impossible for us to be sure" (62). Much of Johnston's argument is therefore highly hypothetical but nonetheless interesting and provocative. She concludes that the dead began to be perceived as a bigger source of problems in the late... (shrink)

In this paper I take up the ambivalence we rightly feel toward leaders by examining the relationship between charismatic authority and moral exemplarity. Drawing on the social theory of Max Weber, and in dialogue with a case study of an anti-militarism movement called the SOA (School of Americas) Watch, I demonstrate that through a “politics of sacrifice” leaders synchronize their own stories with those of communally recognized exemplars and act in ways that evidence a solidarity in the suffering of those (...) exemplars thereby generating their charismatic authority. While performing crucial strategic, motivational, and pedagogical roles, this charisma also introduces problematic temptations to authoritarianism that short-circuit the practical reasoning that exemplars supposedly help to form. In the end this leaves our sense of ambivalence intact. What is needed, I argue, are practices of critique that reopen the distance between leader and follower and thus allow the possibility of practical reason. (shrink)

This article was championed in view of the notion of (perceived) economic rationalisation which seem to be the foremost of patients' care in the NHS as opposed to addressing distress to their existing well-being, while in a state of being tormented with agonising news of prolonged ill health. Serious consideration is given to addressing the need to rationalise resources in ensuring the long standing history of the NHS' free health care is critically addressed, but not in a way that destroys (...) confidence on the ability of professionals to manifest ethical prudence in their acts of judgments about whether patients' care is to be imminent or prolonged on a waiting list. There is certainly serious impacts to be comprehended with in situations of economic rationality through services provided by the NHS, but it is believed that tangible outcomes about definitive care for patients should be addressed collaboratively. (shrink)

Resumen El objetivo fundamental de este artículo es el de analizar la representación que realiza la filósofa española María Zambrano del mito de Antígona y proyectarla en los debates contemporáneos en torno a la recuperación de los cuerpos de víctimas humanas en contextos post-violencia. Más allá del entramado lingüístico mítico-religioso en el que La tumba de Antígona parece situarse, desentrañaremos los diferentes estratos semánticos y filosóficos subyacentes a la relectura que Zambrano propone de la heroína tebana. Ello nos permitirá destacar (...) la potencialidad política subversiva del gesto de Antígona al abarcar a sujetos históricos tradicionalmente marginados del espacio público. Abstract This article aims to analyzing and projecting María Zambrano's representation of Antigone’s myth within contemporary debates about the recovery of the bodies of human victims in post-violence contexts. Beyond the mythic-religious framework in which The Tomb of Antigone seems to be located, it will be unraveled the different semantic and philosophical layers underlying Zambrano's re-reading of the Theban heroine. This will pave the way towards highlighting the subversive political potential of Antigone's gesture by embracing historical subjects traditionally marginalized from the public space. (shrink)

In India, there has been a shift from using unclaimed bodies to voluntary body donation for anatomy dissections in medical colleges. This study used in-depth qualitative interviews to explore the deeper intent, values and attitudes towards body donation, the body and death, and expectations of the body donor, as well as their next of kin and representative religious scholars. All donors had enrolled in a body bequest programme in a medical school in South India. This study concludes that body donors (...) are philanthropists with deep-rooted values of altruism and service, who are often willing to forgo traditional religious and cultural death rituals. The next of kin are often uncomfortable with the donor’s decision, and this suggests that it is important that dialogue/counselling occurs at the time of the bequest, if the donor’s wishes are to be respected. Religious injunctions are often misinterpreted; this implies that religious leaders/scholars can play a significant role in addressing these misconceptions which are barriers to body donation. Body bequest programmes in India may be enhanced by positioning body donation as ‘daana’—giving without any expectation of return for a higher purpose, including ceremonies of respect in medical colleges. Furthermore, increased public engagement and awareness about body bequest programmes are also important to enhance participation. When medical students internalise what body donors expect of them, i.e. altruism, empathy with patients and becoming ‘good doctors’, it will help to ensure that the donation was not in vain and that the dead truly teach the living. (shrink)

The wishes of registered organ donors are regularly set aside when family members object to donation. This genuine overruling of the wishes of the deceased raises difficult ethical questions. A successful argument for providing the family with a veto must (a) provide reason to disregard the wishes of the dead, and (b) establish why the family should be allowed to decide. One branch of justification seeks to reconcile the family veto with important ideas about respecting property rights, preserving autonomy, (...) and preventing harm. These arguments are ultimately unsuccessful. Another branch of arguments is consequentialist, pointing out the negative consequences of removing the veto. Whether construed as concerning family distress or as a potential drop in the organs available, these arguments are unsuccessful; the first fails to recognize the tremendous distress associated with waiting for an organ, while the second has little supporting evidence. A final section considers and rejects whether combining some of the arguments just examined could justify the family veto. We should thus remove the family veto in organ donation. (shrink)

Are the wishes of the dead more important than the needs of the living? This question is prompted by consideration of the Hershey Trust Company, a perpetual charitable trust that not only owns and operates the Milton Hershey School in Pennsylvania, but also owns a controlling interest in various Hershey-related for-profit entities. This unusual arrangement, and the conditions under which it was formed, have produced a situation in which a small, private boarding school for low-income students has an (...) endowment of $12 billion (in addition to its other corporate and real estate interests). The trust has been operating according to its founder’s wishes for decades, but some have wondered whether its resources could be put to better use for more urgent needs. This case will invite students to consider the question of how we should weigh the needs of the living against the wishes of the dead. (shrink)

advanced directivesend-of-life decisionsharming the deadposthumous reproductiontransplant ethics.

Intergenerational transfers are a core feature of the practice of private philanthropy. A substantial portion of the resources committed to charitable causes comes from transfers (either during life or at death) that continue to pay out after death. Indeed, much of the power of the charitable foundation lies in its ability to extend the life of an enterprise beyond the mortal existence of its initiating agents. Despite their prevalence, whether and in what way the instruments of intergenerational philanthropy can be (...) justified is controversial. Many have argued that these instruments unfairly privilege the interests of the dead at the expense of the living and unborn. More recently, others have argued that intergenerational charitable transfers comport with the demands of distributive justice and are therefore legitimate. This paper contends that both of these perspectives fail to see the problem for what it is. Intergenerational charitable transfers may indeed promote justice in certain respects, but they do so at the cost of imposing the judgments of the dead onto the living. Respecting the wishes of the past conflicts with an interest in “generational sovereignty.” The paper concludes that properly accounting for this interest in generational sovereignty doesn’t require the abolition of intergenerational philanthropy. But it does tell in favor of a different regulatory orientation than most legal systems currently adopt. (shrink)

The dead donor rule (DDR) has facilitated the saving of hundreds of thousands of lives. Recent advances in heart donation, however, have exposed how DDR has limited donation of all organs. We propose advancing the moment in the dying process at which death can be determined to increase substantially the supply of organs for transplantation. We justify this approach by identifying certain flaws in the Uniform Determination of Death Act and proposing a modification of that law that permits earlier (...) procurement of healthier organs in greater numbers. (shrink)

The hypothesis of this paper is that we maintain a relationship with the dead precisely in their death, and this relationship is best understood in terms of Peirce's semiotics and its influence on the work of Jacques Derrida. Roland Bardies' theory of photography illustrates this semiotics of death. The subsistent and continuous reality of the non-extant, absent and silent being of the dead individual is manifested—and continues to communicate—through indexical signs, i.e., any traces left behind by the (...) class='Hi'>dead individual (such as photos, clothes, glasses, writings, recordings). (shrink)

Contemporary culture trivializes the "seven deadly sins," or vices, as if they have no serious moral or spiritual implications. Glittering Vices clears this misconception by exploring the traditional meanings of gluttony, sloth, lust, and others. It offers a brief history of how the vices were compiled and an eye opening explication of how each sin manifests itself in various destructive behaviors. Readers gain practical understanding of how the vices shape our culture today and how to correctly identify and eliminate the (...) deeply rooted patterns of sin that are work in their own lives. This accessible book is essential for any reader interested in spiritual disciplines and character formation. Excerpt Very simply, a virtue (or vice) is acquired through practice repeated activity that increases our proficiency at the activity and gradually forms our character. . . . We often need external incentives and sanctions to get us through the initial stages of the process, when our old, entrenched desires still pull us toward the opposite behavior. But with encouragement, discipline, and often a role model or mentor, practice can make things feel more natural and enjoyable as we gradually develop the internal values and desires corresponding to our outward behavior. Virtue often develops, that is, from the outside in. This is why, when we want to reform our character from vice to virtue, we often need to practice and persevere in regular spiritual disciplines and formational practices for a lengthy period of time. (shrink)